


Stained Glass

by MissjuliaMiriam



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Angst, Archmage!Billy, Death, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Lots and Lots of Death, M/M, Magic, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate CC. In which Wolverine got there first, and Teddy was perfectly ready to sacrifice his own life to save Billy's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one of two for this fic, and I'm warning you now, the angst is pretty heavy. Part two is perhaps a little more hopeful, but not much. Enjoy.

If there is one piece of clothing that should never be bloodstained, it is a wedding dress. It is a true shame, then, that Wanda's was. The red liquid spread quickly, soaking the white fabric as it expanded from where Wolverine's claws stuck from Wanda's back.

Billy lay on the ground, stunned, and watched as the Scarlet Witch slumped over Wolverine's arm. The stocky man shook her off carelessly and her body slid to the ground. Wolverine didn't give her a second glance and advanced on Billy, blood dripping from his claws to the grass.

The teen was frozen, shocked and afraid, sure this would be the end of him just as it had been the end of Wanda. He could only watch as Wolverine stalked up to him and raised his hand, prepared to strike Billy's head from his shoulders. Then time seemed to slow.

From somewhere off to his right Billy heard Teddy's voice scream his name, then a green mass with a familiar shock of yellow hair appeared between him and Wolverine's claws. Red bloomed, spattering Billy's face and body with warm, copper-smelling liquid. And Teddy collapsed into the dirt with two distinct thunks that couldn't be made by a body still in one piece.

“Shame, that”, Wolverine grunted. Billy didn't hear him, his entire mind occupied by a single sickening thought. _Teddy isn't healing_. And he wasn't. This wasn't just some wound, the blond's left shoulder had been shredded, half his collarbone shattered, the white of bone peaking through all the red. And his neck has been nearly destroyed, removing his head from his body in one messy swipe. Teddy's blood stained the green grass scarlet, his skin reverting to pink. There was no recovery from this, and Billy didn't know what to think (no, no, please, oh god, no).

Wolverine moved again, this time to drive claws covered in the lifeblood of both Wanda and Teddy through Billy's throat. He never got that far. He hit a shield of white-blue energy two inches from Billy's skin, and suddenly pure lightning was coursing through his claws, along his adamantium skeleton, practically melting him from the inside out. He was unable even to scream before his scorched corpse was tossed away from Billy, the third in the day's body count.

Tommy wasn't expecting what he found when he broke away from the fight to find Teddy and Billy. He had been hoping to find them and Scarlet Witch safe, Wolverine subdued by Billy's magic. Instead he found a scene of horror unlike anything he'd ever laid eyes on before.

Billy knelt in the middle of a circle of blood soaked grass, three bodies strewn around him. A half-melted, burned figure that could only be identified as Wolverine by the blue and yellow clothing lay furthest away. His death had clearly been brutal and Tommy's eyes didn't linger. The next body he saw was that of the Scarlet Witch, her wounds suggesting that Wolverine had been her death. She had been stabbed and left to bleed out, though she had likely fallen unconscious quickly. And then... Teddy. Tommy drew in a choked breath. Billy sat right next to what could only be Teddy's corpse, soaked in his blood and cradling... something. A closer look revealed that Billy held Teddy's head close to his chest, his own body bent around it, their foreheads pressed together.

Tommy moved a bit closer, called Billy's name softly. He got no response. Billy continued to stare blankly into the dead eyes of his boyfriend. There were no tears on his face, and his body was absolutely still, but he didn't even blink when Tommy called his name again, a bit louder. Tommy took another step closer, his breath shuddering as he stepped onto grass drenched in Teddy's blood, and reached out, only to have his fingers shocked when he hit a barrier. It lit up when Tommy made contact, showing a bright blue dome surrounding both Billy and Teddy's body.

Tommy swallowed and called out Billy's name again, barely aware as the conflict behind him calmed and the Avengers, Young Avengers and X-Men began to gather around him, all eyes fixed on the scene of grief before them. Billy was silent, still, wrapped around the boy he had loved, who had loved him, who might have been his everything. They had had a future, was the thought in many heads. And now it was gone.

Tommy called Billy's name again, and Captain America took a step forward. Tommy didn't have time to warn him before the man made contact with Billy's shield. It didn't simply shock him, though. It threw him backwards with a bright flash of light. Iron Man jerked, shouted “Cap!” and followed him, helping him up.

“Don't,” Tommy said once they rejoined the group. “It just shocked me, but I'm his brother.” He looked towards Billy again. “I'll try to talk to him. I don't know if he can hear me though, or if he's just not listening.” Either way, Tommy was determined to try.

 

“Billy,” he called softly, “I'm not sure you can hear me, but, here goes.” He took a deep breath. “Please lower your shield. We just want to help, get you cleaned up and stuff. Uh, it'll- it'll be okay. Eventually. I promise.”

This got a small response. Billy took a shuddering breath then turned to look at Tommy. It was a shock. His light brown eyes had darkened and dulled. His face was expressionless, his shoulders slumped, and his hands, previously so tightly clasped around Teddy's head, tangled in the red-dyed blond hair, had gone slack. He looked dead, or like he very much wanted to be. Somehow, that was no surprise to Tommy.

“We... we don't want you to retreat,” Tommy continued, getting nods from some of the people standing around him. “Come on, Billy. We'll get you cleaned up. And- and Teddy.”

But Teddy's name seemed to flip a switch. Blue sparked in Billy's eyes and all around him, and there was a great flash of blue lighting and a crack of thunder, momentarily blinding and deafening the onlookers. When their vision cleared, Teddy's body lay in the grass, and Billy was gone.

They buried Teddy in a quiet graveyard in New York. The funeral was attended by the Avengers, the Young Avengers, the Fantastic Four, and some of the X-Men. They had locked out the public; the death felt too near to all of them, especially since they all felt like they were mourning the loss of not one but two young lives.

Billy hadn't reappeared, so after the funeral a search was mounted, the heroes scouring the world looking for the boy some had held close to their hearts and others had known only as Wiccan. It didn't seem to make a difference though. No matter how many went out, no matter what powers they had, Billy was no where to be found.

Slowly, people began giving up to search. First the Fantastic Four, then the X-Men, then the Avengers. Eventually, even the Young Avengers gave up and tried to settle into rhythms of life without Teddy and Billy.

The only one who didn't give up was Tommy. He took a long journey across the world at first, looking everywhere. Then he made short sojourns to dark corners of the world, where no one else would think to look. Then it was trips across North America, then just the United States, until finally he couldn't afford to neglect his responsibilities for what others believed was pointless any more.

He never truly gave up though, and every morning he woke early to wander the streets of New York. He didn't really expect to find Billy around the corner, but it would have felt wrong to give up completely, as the others had. Billy was Tommy's twin, if anyone could find him, it would be Tommy. After all, it had taken Billy to find the Scarlet Witch. Why couldn't the bonds of blood pull through again?

 

Billy did not want to be found. He hid himself away, in a barren cave far from any semblance of civilization, and sat and stared at the walls and meditated. He retreated deep inside himself, where there was nothing but power, where emotion (grief) could not touch him, nor could hunger or cold.

He simply held himself within his own wells of power, and learned of strength and control, and of impossible things. Creation. Destruction. Growth. Death. And resurrection.

There were things that his own magic could teach him that he did not even know existed. He learned to control his own body, his own mind, his own power, down to a level of finesse that no one had ever seen before. And as he learned, his power grew and changed, morphed into something new, something indescribable, wonderful, and perhaps, inhuman.

But little mattered to him anymore. Everything he was now centered around a single emotion. Love. He had loved Teddy with everything he was, and he had been the cause of his death. So he would bring him back, no matter what it took. And he would not allow himself to return to his home until he was sure he would be able to do it.

 

Three years dragged by. Everyone stopped waiting, stopped hoping that Billy was going to come home. Most of them thought he was dead, probably by his own hand.

Tommy knew different. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that he would have felt it if Billy was dead. He couldn't track Billy, or read his thoughts, or feel his pain (thank god), but Tommy was sure he would have felt it if Billy had died. So he waited.

And then, one day, Tommy returned to his spartan apartment and it wasn't so empty as it usually was. There was someone there, he could tell immediately. He closed the door behind him silently and walked into the main room of his home on cat's feet, then startled at the sight of a man standing against his window. He was facing out towards to street, and Tommy couldn't see more than a silhouette. He was tall though, Tommy's height, and thinner than was probably healthy. His hair was everywhere, a long jagged mess that looked like it hadn't been washed in a long time, and hadn't been brushed in longer.

He wore black. And around his shoulders lay a bright red cloak, flowing and torn.

Tommy knew in an instant, even before the man turned to the side, revealing his profile, so similar to the one he saw in the morning. This was his brother, back from the dead.

“Billy,” he whispered, near silent. He clicked on a light, illuminating Billy's lanky form. He was a mess, all dust and ice, like something preserved in a museum. He turned around fully, and Tommy gasped.

Billy was nearly emaciated, like he hadn't eaten in far too long, and his clothes were worn. His hair had grown out, though it looked like it had perhaps been cut once of twice, it was a choppy job and it was still long enough that it could be tied back. His skin was pale, near translucent, and he had bags under his eyes. And his eyes were speckled with bright green, emerald or grass, like nothing Tommy had ever seen before.

Tommy couldn't hold himself back. It had been years since he had seen Billy, and though they hadn't had much time to get to know each other, they were brothers, twins. Two long strides took him across the room and one more smooth motion had Billy in his arms. He felt fragile, like something that would break if too much pressure was applied, but he was alive all the same. But Billy didn't return the hug. He tensed, flinched, then stood stock still in Tommy's embrace, stiff and stilted, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

“Billy?” Tommy asked, drawing back. “Are you... okay?”

The look he received was wary and unsure. “Tommy.” Billy's voice was a rough whisper, like wind carrying sand, as though he hadn't used it in years. And he said Tommy's name as if he wasn't sure of it.

“You haven't had any human contact, have you?” Tommy asked, struck with sadness.

Billy shook his head.

“Why... why did you come back?”

Those strange eyes blinked once, slowly. “Teddy. I- Teddy.”

There was nothing uncertain about the way he said Teddy's name, but there was something else. Something broken and tense, and worshipful. And Tommy realized that Billy's love for Teddy had become like a church's stained glass window that had been broken and restored. It was a piece of art, something to be adored, worshiped, but it had shattered and when it was put back together something wasn't the same, not matter how close it got.

“Teddy is dead.” Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to say, but it needed to be said.

Something in Billy hardened. “Not for long.”

Tommy recoiled. “You can't- that's not possible! You can't bring people back to life, it doesn't work. Haven't Wanda's mistakes taught you that?”

“My magic taught me.”

“Your magic taught you?”

Billy gave Tommy a look that said _of course,_ and it was almost as if the old Billy had returned, just for a moment. Then it was gone.

“Okay. Do you-” Tommy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Do you need his body?”

“Yes.”

“He's been in the ground a long time.”

There was deep, deep sadness in Billy's eyes. “He was exposed to my magic. He will have been preserved.”

Tommy jolted. “Oh- god. Okay. I'll just... take you there.”

“Thank you.”

“Now?”

Billy nodded once, solemn and silent once more.

It took about fifteen for the two to reach the small cemetery by cab. Tommy had found an apartment near by, not wanting to be far from the grave. Just in case. Billy got a strange look from the cab driver, but it seemed like Billy hadn't even noticed. He just stared out the window as the city flashed by, his gaze as intent as if he had never seen it before.

Tommy paid the driver quickly once they reached the graveyard, then followed Billy as he drifted between the grave markers, headed straight towards the grave that belonged to Teddy as though he had been there a thousand times. Against the fading light Billy looked like a wraith, or a spirit, wandering through the graves looking for it's partner. Which, Tommy supposed, was exactly was what was going on.

When they reached the grave Billy stopped abruptly at the foot of Teddy's plot, staring down at the grassy mound and the small granite marker they had bought for him. The grave was well kept, and there were flowers laid against the headstone, only a few days old. Tommy hadn't been in a few weeks, so it was likely Kate, or perhaps the Vision. It could also have been one of the Avengers, he knew that Cap sometimes visited, and that Iron Man usually went with him. The flowers could have been left by anyone, really. They seemed to make Billy even more still though, like the fact that people were mourning Teddy, honouring his death was something physically painful for him. Maybe it was.

Then Billy raised his hands and Tommy felt the need to ask, “Are you doing this now?”

Billy looked at him like he was an idiot again, and continued with whatever he was doing. Green lightning crackled around Billy, the same emerald green that was present in his eyes. It was so unlike the pale blue that his magic used to be that Tommy took a step back, wondering if this was even the same person. Then he realized that no strange magician would care so much about Teddy. No one was Billy.

The green lightning sunk into the ground, and for a moment Tommy wondered if the dirt was about to go flying everywhere. But it didn't. Instead, there was a flash of green light and the ornate black coffin that Teddy had been buried in was seemingly teleported from six feet under two about two feet in front of Tommy. It was at that moment, as he watched as Billy stared at the thing, that Tommy realized that this was happening and whipped out his phone. Billy ignored him as he dialled Tony Stark's private line. He could get in touch with everyone the fastest.

Tony picked up the phone immediately, murmuring, “Tommy? What is it? You just left.”

“I know,” Tommy gasped out, “but, I, uh. There's a situation. Billy. Is back. And standing in front of Teddy's grave.”

“He's going to resurrect him?”

Tommy heard Cap's voice in the background asking who Tony was talking about. “Yeah. He seemed pretty confident. And ready. You should hurry, if you don't want to miss the, uh, show.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, the Tony said, “Don't go anywhere. I'll round up the others and send Cap your way. We'll be there soon.”

“He's not gonna-” There was a click as Tony hung up, “-hurt me. Really.”

Tommy turned his attention back to Billy to see that the dark-haired twin had managed to get the casket open, baring Teddy's face to the world. Tommy almost expected rot and decay, but Billy had been right. Teddy had been preserved perfectly. There was still a tear that separated his body, but Billy seemed not to notice and instead leaned down to cup Teddy's cheek. Tommy watched the silent tableau of love and loss, musing on how Teddy looked as though he was just sleeping. But he also looked three years too young, and Billy looked like he had had his heart torn from his chest, pain evident in the lines of his face.

 

Tommy didn't try to hear, but he did. “Oh, love,” Billy whispered, “what I have done to you. I am sorry. I will make it right.”

There was a flare of green, and Tommy looked away. When he looked back, Teddy's body was whole again, nothing remaining of his terrible wounds but a thick white scar across his neck. Billy sighed, the longing in it breaking Tommy's heart all over again.

Billy had watched this man die to save him, and had waited three long years for the chance to bring him back. And now he almost had it in his grasp. This was like watching a bird who's wings had been broken learn to fly again. Glorious and terribly, terribly sad, because the scars would never truly vanish.

Then Iron Man landed on the lawn behind Tommy, Cap in his arms. Billy straightened and turned around. “Iron Man. Captain America.” His voice held that sense of not quite knowing who they were again, almost as if he barely remembered them, even more present that it had been with Tommy.

Cap nodded to Billy. “Billy. I'm glad you're alive.”

“You cannot stop me,” Billy rasped.

Cap sighed. “Bringing people back from the dead is never a good idea.”

“I will restrain you. All of you, if I must,” he added, shooting a meaningful glance towards Tommy.

“We won't stop you, Billy,” Iron Man said, “this is something you need to try for yourself.”

“There is no try,” Billy said, quiet and suddenly angry. “I can do this. I know I can. I must. Do not try to stop me.”

Both Cap and Iron man nodded. “Alright. Will you wait for the others?”

“I'm done waiting.” It struck all three of the active superheroes hard. Billy had done his waiting. Three years of it. In some god forsaken corner of the world, with no one to stand by him as he drowned in the depths of his grief. So they all stood back as the slight figure turned back to the only man he had ever loved and placed his hands on his chest, summoning the green electricity that was his power to fill the air around him.

The energy stood static for a long moment before Billy pressed down once on Teddy's chest and the energy flowed into the blond's body, dragging along behind it something wispy and white and yellow and green, that no one there could place any name to but Teddy.

And Teddy gasped in a breath of air for the first time in three years.

His eyes shot open, revealing pale blue irises that no one had seen in far too long. The first thing that he saw was Billy, gaunt and pale and looking so happy, like every wrong in the world had been righted.

“Billy,” he gasped, and choked a little.

The happiness on Billy's face remained for a moment, then slipped, drained away, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion and something unidentifiable almost alien in its intensity.

"Teddy," Billy whispered. "Teddy." He took Teddy's face into his hands, holding it reverently, as if the feel of Teddy's skin beneath his delicate fingertips was entirely new.

Then he collapsed.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Teddy deals with the aftermath of his resurrection and with Billy, who has become a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part, unless I suddenly feel the need to write more in this universe, though that's pretty unlikely, considering how much it killed me to write this.

Teddy's reflexes weren't fast enough to catch Billy as he slumped to the ground, but he was out of the casket and kneeling on the ground next to him in seconds.

The blond pulled Billy into his arms and held him to his chest tightly, his eyes closed.

The onlookers cringed at the echoed tableau. None of them had been able to wipe the image of Billy clutching Teddy's corpse from their minds, and the fact that the roles were reversed now did nothing to ease the sting. The memory froze all three watchers, but Captain America broke through it quickly enough and moved forward to place a hand on Teddy's shoulder.

“How are you feeling, Teddy?”

Teddy looked up, his arms tightening. “Fine, I guess,” he replied, his voice raspy from disuse.

“Do you... actually, we'll talk later, alright? For now, you get him home.”

Teddy's brows furrowed. “Home?”

“Your apartment,” Tommy piped up. “I couldn't sell it. Things might be a little dusty, but the furniture is still there and I took anything perishable out of the house. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that's fine. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy just nodded, so Teddy rose, Billy still clasped to his chest, limp and pliant. He wobbled on his feet, then steadied. The blond gave Iron Man, Cap and Tommy one last inscrutable look then morphed into his winged form and took off into the sky, as if he hadn't been dead for three years. As his figure became ever smaller against the darkening sky, the rest of the Young Avengers arrived, all of them staring after him.

“My god,” Kate breathed as they watched him fly away. “What did we miss?”

“A miracle,” Iron Man said. “Come on, we'll go back to Avengers Mansion for the night, and we'll get you all filled in.”

 

 _God_ , Teddy thought as he carried Billy's unconscious form into his apartment, _I had imagined carrying Billy across a threshold, but never like this_. The memory brought back others, of days long ago when they had been so happy and the future had seemed so bright.

But now Teddy had god-knows-how-long's worth of something just beyond the edge of his memory and Billy had both the power to bring back the dead, and a reason to use it. It all felt so wrong, like it was someone else's life.

“It's my life though,” Teddy said to himself, bringing Billy into his bedroom and laying him on the bed, “and now I have a chance to live it. I almost didn't get that, I should be grateful.”

Something still wasn't right about the way Billy's face was tense and tired, even in sleep, but that was an issue for the morning. Instead of dwelling, Teddy pulled the tattered cloak from Billy's shoulders and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, tossing the suit he had been buried in on the floor. The only sound in the room was the rustle of blankets as Teddy pulled Billy and himself under the covers. Teddy wrapped an arm around Billy, for a moment unsure, then smiled and relaxed when the mage, even deeply unconscious, turned and tucked himself into Teddy. And so, with the feeling that maybe things would be okay, Teddy drifted off the sleep.

 

Teddy had strange, undefinable dreams, and the task of dragging himself from their grasp was a slow, laborious one. When he finally came awake, the first thing that he was aware of was that he was alone. His eyes fluttered open and he took in the sight of his own room, memories of the night before filtering back into his head. Quiet concern and mild panic in his mind, Teddy rose and padded into his front room, searching for Billy.

Billy was standing at of the window, his palm pressed to the glass, taking in the city as the sun's light spilled across it. His figure was illuminated, and he looked transcendent, like a being not belonging to the mortal plane.

Teddy crossed the room on silent feet to stand behind Billy, and, despite his reluctance to disrupt such a peaceful image, laid a hand on Billy's shoulder. “Morning,” he said.

Billy turned and looked up into Teddy's face. His eyes were blank, his face blanker, if that was possible, and he parted his lips as if to speak. He said nothing though, and he clenched his jaw back shut and looked back to the cityscape. “Billy?” Teddy asked, concerned.

No response. Teddy frowned. “Alright,” he murmured, “if you're sure.” Then he continued, louder. “I'm going to call Avengers Mansion, try to get ahold of Tony and Steve and the rest of the team. They'll have questions, and they'll probably want us to come in. Is that fine?”

Those alien eyes lifted to meet Teddy's for a moment, then returned to staring out the window. Teddy sighed, then turned away to make the call, aware of the way Billy curled into himself the second Teddy pulled his hand from the smaller man's shoulder.

 

The trip to Avengers Mansion was uneventful. Billy remained silent as the grave Teddy had just crawled out of, and Teddy wasn't really sure what to say. When they arrived, they were greeted warmly by Steve, clad in his civvies, the larger blond man clapping Teddy on the shoulder. He reached out as if to hug Billy as well, but something in the way the slight young man looked at him stopped him short. So he welcomed them inside, and brought them into a large conference room, where the Young Avengers and several of the not-so-young Avengers sat, waiting for them.

There was shock, surprise and amazement on many faces. Some were less pleased (Eli, for one) but others (such as a widely grinning Peter) seemed overjoyed that both Billy and Teddy were okay (physically, at least).

Cassie leapt from here seat and threw her arms around Teddy's neck. “Oh my god. you're actually alive! How are you?”

Teddy smiled and waited until she released him, then settled into a seat before answering. “I'm fine.” He glanced up at Billy, who had remained standing behind him, stony-faced and still silent. “We both are, as far as I can tell.”

“That's good,” she said. “I'm glad to have you back.”

“Glad to be back.”

“So, no strange maladies then?” Tony inquired from a seat near the head of the table.

“Not as far as I can tell,” Teddy replied, shrugging. “I feel okay. Maybe a little... off, but okay.”

“Off?” Tony was tapping out notes of some kind on a small tablet.

Teddy shrugged again. “I was dead, after all. It's probably to be expected.”

“I suppose so,” Steve laughed. “What do you remember of the time you spent...” He trailed off, looked at Billy. “Gone.”

“I- I don't really- It's not- Agh.” Teddy huffed, frustrated. “How long was I gone?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You don't know?”

“No.”

A few glances were exchanged, several of them directed at Billy. Those were ignored. “Three years, Teddy.”

Teddy froze. Of all the things he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. Everyone looked a bit older, yes, but he hadn't been sure how much, and Billy hadn't grown all that much. Perhaps because he hadn't been eating properly. “Three years? God.”

And it didn't get any better. Teddy learned that he had been gone for three years, and Billy had vanished minutes after his death, then only reappeared to resurrect him the previous night. He had been presumed dead as well. Billy had said nothing when the others had asked him about his time away, and Teddy had very little he could say about the time he spent dead. It wasn't something that he could put words to, what he remembered of it.

It was perhaps an hour of catching up before finally Cassie finally asked the big question. “So, are you going to rejoin to the team?”

Teddy was aware of Billy tensing harshly behind him, even as he answered, “Eventually, yes. I need some recovery time, but I don't feel rusty and I want to be fighting again. Helping people.”

“That's great!”

Billy hadn't relaxed though, and he didn't relax at all for the rest of the time they spent with their friends. And Teddy had no clue what to do to help, besides reach back, tangle their fingers together and hope for the best.

 

Three days later, Teddy went out to buy groceries, or more groceries, because Billy wasn't eating much of anything that he had in the house and he wanted to try different foods to see if that helped. When he came back, the mage was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room, eyes closed, vibrant green power swirling around him. It looked like fire and lighting and something terrifying and destructive, so Teddy chose not to disturb him for the time being and went to put the groceries away. When he returned, it was to see the last traces of emerald glow sink into the walls to the house. “What are you doing?” he asked, brushing a hand against Billy's back. Touch often relaxed him, and would increase the likelyhood of Teddy receiving an answer.

“Setting wards.” Teddy's eyes widened. Billy had responded.

“Why?”

Billy glanced up. “Protection.”

“We don't really-”

“Wolverine had friends.”

Teddy blinked, derailed, and before he could resettle himself Billy had risen and drifted from the room. The blond sighed. Well, at least the smaller boy wasn't about to leave the house. He never left the house; he just sat in one place and meditated or moved from room to room, silent as a shadow. He looked at Teddy as if he wanted nothing more than to be close to him, but he remained silent and distant, restrained by something.

That, more than anything, terrified Teddy. The only thing that released the tension from Billy's shoulders was Teddy's touch, but he never reached out. The only thing that made him respond was the sound of Teddy's voice, but he never started a conversation. The only thing that made the darkness and the blankness leave his face and eyes was Teddy's presence, but he never lingered long in the same room. And Teddy just couldn't understand why.

 

It was difficult to rest when you shared a bed with someone who didn't sleep; a fact that Teddy had never known before, but suddenly was learning through experience. At first, he had assumed that Billy was sleeping when he was quiet and pliant, curled up in bed next to Teddy, sometimes even leaning into him. But then Teddy began to notice that Billy's breathing was too measured, too even, and that he was far too still. It was disturbing and unnatural, and Teddy quickly realized that Billy wasn't sleeping at all; he was meditating.

After that realization, it suddenly became very difficult to sleep well. Teddy didn't want to be holding Billy when he was awake, because he so often withdrew, and he often felt as if he was being watched, even if Billy had his back turned.

After three nights of bad sleep, Teddy gave up. He felt like a quitter, but he needed rest. So, before he turned in one night, he said to Billy, “I can't do this anymore.”  
He got a tight glance and tighter shoulders.

“Honestly, Billy, I'm not going to abandon you. I just- I can't sleep when I know you're awake, even if you're meditating. You can keep the bed, just, I'm going to move to the couch, okay?”

Billy looked up at him, silent and near-still. Then he nodded. “Whatever you wish.”

Teddy felt terrible leaving Billy alone like that. But he just couldn't anymore. So he took blankets from his linen closet and made himself a bed on the couch. He slept well enough.

The next night, Teddy woke feeling as if someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking over the back of the couch towards the entry to the living room. Billy was standing there, the expression on his face reminiscent of the look of a child who had had a nightmare but didn't wish to disturb his parents.

“What are you doing?” Teddy asked, voice sleep-rough and husky.

Billy swallowed and looked down. “Listening,” he said, then turned and headed back into the bedroom. Teddy frowned. _Listening to what?_ he wondered, laying back down. And then it occurred to him. _Listening to my breathing. Listening to make sure that I'm not gone again_. He wasn't sure how long Billy had been standing there and how long he would have been standing there had the blond not woken. Perhaps he had come the previous night. Perhaps he would come every night. And Teddy knew that Billy wouldn't stop; not unless Teddy asked, and even then he would only stop because, for whatever reason, the answer was always “Whatever you wish,” these days.

 

It was a week before Teddy felt ready to return to duty as a member of the Young Avengers, and another three days after that before an emergency big enough to require the whole team arose. A group of terrorists were threatening to bomb a school building, and they were holding the students inside with automatic weaponry. Teddy, who had been given a communicator, got the call and was changed into his costume and out the door in minutes, Billy trailing behind him. Billy had thrown his cloak around his shoulders, but hadn't bothered with the headband that he had used to wear as Wiccan, instead allowing his long, jaggedly cut black hair to fall around his face and into his eyes. That, set against with his tight black long-sleeve, flowing linen pants and scarlet cloak, presented a very imposing image. Teddy himself had chosen to leave his outfit unaltered, as he had become fond of the black vest and fingerless gloves in the short time he had worn them before his death.  
When they arrived at the scene, the battle was already in full swing, bullets and arrows flying and people being knocked around here, there and everywhere. Teddy launched himself into the midst of it, green and ready to go, while Billy stood back some and lashed out at anyone who got too close with bolts of emerald magic. The tide of the fight turned quickly, terrorists falling all around them. And then one man stumbled up and reached for the button to detonate the bomb they had planted. Before anyone could blink, there was a flare of green, and the man and the remainder of his conscious comrades vanished. Completely.

Teddy turned to look at Billy, the rest of the team's eyes following, and saw that the mage didn't even have a hand stretched out. In fact, his arms were crossed, his shoulders hunched slightly as if he were cold or afraid. “Billy?” Teddy said, stepping closer. “Was that you?”

The slight boy nodded. “The bomb is gone as well.”

Teddy turned and shared a short glance with Tommy, who sped off. He was back in an instant, and nodded, confirming that the bomb had vanished just as surely as the terrorists had.

“Sorry,” said Billy, near silent. Then, in another flash of green, he too vanished. Everyone jumped except Teddy, who sighed. “It's okay, you guys,” he said. “He's probably returned home. He wouldn't just leave.”

“How can you be so sure?” Eli demanded. “He could be just about anywhere, with that kind of power. And where did he send those terrorists and their bomb?”

“The terrorists are gone. Probably dead, maybe even erased from existence. Billy's powerful. But he also refuses to leave my side, and he'll do just about anything I say. He wouldn't abandon us.”

“He'll do anything you say?” Cassie said, frowning.

“Look, I'm not exactly ordering him around or anything, but he won't eat unless I tell him too, and if I ask him for something, he gives it to me. He never asks for anything, never really does anything but stare out the windows or meditate or wander around my apartment,” Teddy said, sounding more and more distraught. “It's like he's not a person anymore, just a ghost or something. I don't know how to deal with it, but at least it means he'll rest and eat and not kill himself or something.”  
“Oh, Teddy,” the blonde girl said, coming to hug him. “It'll work out.”

“I hope so,” Teddy said, returning her embrace. “Because I don't know how much longer I can continue to hope for the best.”

 

“What do you want to watch, Billy?”

Billy looked up. “Whatever you wish.”

And suddenly, it was too much. Teddy sprang up from where he had been settled on the couch next to Billy, watching TV, and paced back and forth across his living room. “No, Billy, not whatever I wish. What I wish is for you to stop doing that. Stop letting me have my way all the time, stop having no opinions, stop not reacting to everything!”

Billy's eyes tightened, but he said nothing.

“You see!” Teddy cried, “This is exactly what I mean! What do you need from me, Billy, so that you can be a god damned human being again?”

“Nothing.” Billy rose from his seat as well and made as if to leave the room. Teddy stopped him, grabbing his wrist tightly and yanking the dark haired boy into his chest. He held him tightly, hard enough to bruise, and leaned down. “No,” he growled. “Do not walk out on me. Do. Not.”

Billy swallowed and nodded, not meeting Teddy's eyes. “Whatever y-”

Teddy didn't let him say it. Instead, he crushed their lips together, kissing the man he loved properly for the first time since his return from death. He allowed Billy no chance to breath, pressing into Billy's mouth, trying to drag a reaction from him. After a moment, Billy pressed back tentatively, and Teddy nearly sobbed into the kiss, relaxing his grip somewhat. He drew away, whispering Billy's name, but was greeted with dark, unsure eyes and tense shoulders. It felt like someone had taken a tenderizer to his solar plexus, and the blond drew away, turning so that his he no longer faced Billy head on.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “That was wrong of me. Just-” he choked, the lump in his throat preventing speech.

Billy took a step away, and Teddy forced the last of his words out. “Just know that I love you and I would give you anything to make you happy again.”

Then he couldn't stay anymore, and left the room and the apartment, escaping to the streets and transforming to his winged form, fleeing into the sky. His quick exit meant that he didn't hear it when Billy whispered to the empty room, “I love you too. Please forgive me; please come back.”

 

Teddy didn't return to the apartment for more than three hours. He had flown halfway across the city and searched out muggers, rapists, drug dealers, any random scumbags commiting crimes on the street. He took out his frustration on them, beating them half to death and leaving them in compromising positions for the police to find, then flying off to find more. Teddy wasn't normally one for that kind of behaviour, that kind of violence, but he felt that it was better that he took it out on them than going home and yelling at Billy again, or worse, hurting him in some way. It wasn't really his fault, after all.

What he returned to when he finally got home was one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen, and something that he would carry in his memory forever.  
Billy knelt in the middle on the living room floor, head bowed, his hands clutching his forearms. Around him, deep green magic lashed, barbs of energy biting through the boy's clothes and into his skin, leaving long, deep cuts that spilled blood then closed, as if Billy's magic didn't know whether to hurt him or heal him. Tears streamed down Billy's face, and he suddered lightly, like a leaf trapped in a gale. He didn't look up, even when Teddy called out his name.

Teddy nearly ran into the room, not even noticing that the whips of magic avoided him completely. He threw himself to his knees next to Billy and wrapped his arms around him in a desperate attempt to pretect him from himself. Slowly, the green energy dissapated, though Billy didn't relax his grip on his own arms. “Billy,” Teddy said, “Billy, oh my god, are you alright, did you lose control, what happened, Billy, please, say something.”

“I love you,” Billy said, voice choked with tears. “I love you, please don't leave me, it's all my fault, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“Billy, no, it's okay, you haven't done anything wrong. Let me help you.”

Billy released his grip in a spasm of movement that seemed unreasonably painful until Teddy realized that Billy had dug deep red crescents into his skin with his own nails. Then the thin arms of the brunet were around Teddy, returning his embrace. “Everything is my fault,” he said, still rambling. “Everything, everything. I love you so much, Teddy, and I don't deserve anything from you and and you should just take all that I am because it's all yours, why you haven't just killed me yet-”

“Billy, no, never! I would never hurt you!” Teddy said, shocked that such things could even be thought by the smaller boy, never mind voiced.

“I'm a monster, Teddy, a demon in human clothes, I have no control, I'm not human. You can't love me, you shouldn't even be near me, it's all my fault.”

“Billy Kaplan, you are not a monster.” The litany of self-deprecation halted for a moment as the steel in Teddy's voice filtered through. “I love you, you idiot, insane magical powers or not! You brought me back to life, for god's sake!”

“I got you killed,” Billy whispered, trying to pull himself out of Teddy's grasp. He failed.

“No, I got me killed. I saved your life, that was my choice, and I made it because I loved you, and I still love you now.”

“I can't lose you again, Teddy.”

“I know, I know. I couldn't bear to lose you either, I don't know how you survived.”

“I love you, so much, so much. Please, I love you.”

“What do you need, Billy?” Teddy asked, shifting the boy so that the were facing each other properly, Billy sprawled across Teddy's lap.

“I need- I need- I don't know, Teddy, I don't know,” Billy said, his voice wrecked and terrified. Billy had been away from everything for so long, had had nothing but magic and emotion. All he'd had to hold onto for three long years was Teddy, how much he loved him, his grief, and his guilt. It had left him empty of everything else. And all of a sudden that became clear to Teddy. Billy hadn't reacted to anything, had become a wraith because he could barely remember being anything else. All that Billy was was his love for Teddy, and he had sacrificed part of his humanity to become that.

“Oh my god,” Teddy said, burying his face in Billy's hair. “What you did to yourself for me. Billy, I love you so much, and I swear, I will not rest until you are better.”

“I am better,” said Billy, “just from being with you. I want to be with you.”

“Then why do you always leave the room when I'm there? Why do you never ask?”

Billy tucked himself further into Teddy's chest, unable to hold himself back any longer. “I don't deserve it. You are worth so much more than me, and I cannot burden you.”

“I love you. You will never be a burden to me.”

“I love you too. Don't leave me again?”

“Never.”

 

Two weeks passed. Billy and Teddy attached themselves to each other, neither ever leaving the other's side. They continued to work together to fight crime, until one day, after a fight with a small terrorist cell, Billy approached Teddy while they were relaxing on the couch after they got home.

“I don't want to fight anymore,” he said, quiet, as had become usual. He was more responsive after his breakdown, though it was clear that he still felt that he wasn't worthy of Teddy's love.

“What do you mean?” Teddy asked, tugging Billy into his side.

“I hate using my powers.” It sounded like a confession. “They make me a monster.”

“They don't make you a monster. You're not a monster.”

“Okay,” said Billy. “But I feel... out of control. It helps when I don't use magic much.”

Teddy nodded. “If that's what you want. Will you ever be ready to go back?”

“Maybe one day,” Billy replied, “but not any day soon. You can still fight, if you want.” Billy didn't sound sure though, and he picked anxiously at the hem of his sleeve.

“Billy,” Teddy huffed. “I'm not going to ditch you to go fight crime.”

“But you want to help people.”

“Yeah, but not everything is about what I want, and I can find other ways to help people,” Teddy said, then leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Billy's lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome as always!


End file.
